


Hospital Visiting

by Small_Hobbit



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-03-12
Updated: 2012-03-12
Packaged: 2017-11-01 20:59:05
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,112
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/361168
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Small_Hobbit/pseuds/Small_Hobbit
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Greg Lestrade hates hospital visiting, but when he learns John Watson is injured things change.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Hospital Visiting

**Author's Note:**

> Written because today is the name day for St Gregory.

DI Lestrade hated hospital visiting.  He remembered as a child being taken to visit his grandmother and then being told to sit still and stop fidgeting, with the accompanying slap on the legs when he failed to do as he had been told.

Ever since then he’d done his best to get out of the visits, using the excuse of being busy at work whenever possible.  Even when his ex-wife had been in hospital having given birth he’d managed to keep the visits to a minimum, although on those occasions it was also to avoid having contact with his mother-in-law.

When one of the DCs in his unit had been rushed in with appendicitis Sally had organised a collection and bought a card and a fruit basket, which she’d left on his desk with a note as to which ward DC Porter was in.  He had implored her to go, but she’d indicated that it was his duty to visit on behalf of the team.  Fortunately, Porter’s parents were also at the hospital, so he wasn’t obliged to stay for long.

But this time was far worse.  John Watson was in hospital, having followed Sherlock on a trail which Lestrade had specifically told Sherlock not to take.  It was one of Dimmock’s cases, but Sherlock had phoned him late the previous night, told him that Dimmock didn’t have a clue and that he, Sherlock, would have it all sorted by late morning.  Lestrade had told him not to do anything without speaking to Dimmock first. 

The next thing he heard was when a furious Dimmock phoned him to say that Sherlock’s actions had wrong footed not only the gang they were after, but a considerable number of his team, who weren’t where they needed to be to apprehend the gang members and that John Watson was on his way to hospital in an ambulance.

When Lestrade put his phone down he returned to the report he was studying.  Half an hour later he realised that he had read the same paragraph several times and that his only thought was “John Watson on his way to hospital”.  He picked up his phone and sent Dimmock a text asking him to let him know when he had any news on John.  The reply came back almost immediately “Ok”.

There was nothing else Lestrade could do, so, aware that he was totally unable to concentrate, he decided to sort the pile of paperwork that had accumulated on his desk.  When Sally came in an hour later to see if he wanted a sandwich she couldn’t believe the improvement.  She had been about to make a suitable comment when she saw the expression on her boss’ face and refrained. 

Fortunately at that moment Lestrade’s phone rang.  He listened to the voice at the other end, said “good” and “thank you” and rang off.

“Right, I have a hospital visit to make,” he told Sally.  “I’ll be back later.”

“What?” she asked.  “Who?  Where?” But since her questions were directed at her boss’ rapidly departing back she received no reply.

So now Lestrade was standing in the hospital shop wondering what to buy.  He had had it drilled into him from an early age that it was good to take something that would cheer the patient up.  But what would be suitable for John?  He glared at the teddy bear sitting at the end of the aisle and went to see which magazines were available.  He quickly dismissed “Puzzle Monthly” knowing what Sherlock’s reaction would be as soon as he saw it and settled on the “Top Gear Magazine”.  That way, if John didn’t like it he could always read it himself.

Armed with the magazine and waving his warrant card Lestrade found the side ward where John was.   His first sight as he entered the room was of Sherlock reading the notes at the end of John’s bed.  Something snapped and he took a step towards Sherlock, raising his arm ready to punch him. He was surprised to find someone grabbing his arms from behind and pinning them to his sides.




“Much as I can understand your wish to flatten my brother at this instant, Inspector, I don’t think it will serve any real purpose.”

Lestrade groaned; not one but two Holmes in the room.  “I told you to wait,” he growled at Sherlock.

“My logic was impeccable.  I had to act when I did,” Sherlock replied.

Lestrade tried to escape from Mycroft’s surprisingly strong grip.

“I think, brother, we should permit the inspector a few minutes alone with the good doctor.”

Sherlock looked as if he was going to ignore the suggestion.

“After all, you don’t want me to tell Mummy what you did to the present she gave you last Christmas, do you?”

“You wouldn’t”

“How sure are you about that?”

Grumbling Sherlock followed his older brother out of the room.

Lestrade drew up a chair and sat down next to the bed.  “How are you?”

“A couple of cracked ribs and minor concussion.  They’re keeping me in overnight for observation.  Although I have a feeling that might be Mycroft’s influence.  I should be able to go home if there’s a responsible adult to keep an eye on me, but I think he doesn’t believe Sherlock is one.”

Lestrade tried to smile, but failed.  “At least it’s nothing worse.  I kept imagining you were badly injured.”

“You were worried about me?”

“Yes.”  Lestrade could feel himself starting to blush.  “And there were things I’d wanted to say to you and I might never get the chance.”

John looked at him but didn’t say anything.  _Right, as well to be hung for a sheep as a lamb, and he hated hospital visiting anyway; get this out and then go._ “I’d been going to ask you out for a drink and a chat and maybe get a meal somewhere, only I’d never had the courage and I’m sorry I’ve said anything and I’ll go now.  Have a magazine.”

Lestrade stood up.

“Thank you.  I’d like that.  As soon as I’m back on my feet.”

“What?  Are you sure?”

“Of course.  I’ve been wanting to ask you the same thing, but whenever I’ve worked up the courage to say something Sherlock’s reappeared.  I don’t suppose you’re a responsible adult?”

Lestrade looked startled and then slowly grinned.  “You mean you’d be happy to come back to my place if they’d let you out?”

“Too right.  I hate being stuck hospitals.”

“And I hate hospital visiting.”

Lestrade walked over and opened the door.  “Mycroft,” he called out, “could you arrange for John to be discharged into my care, please.”

 


End file.
